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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898558">Settling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereToWrite/pseuds/HereToWrite'>HereToWrite</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Captain of My Soul [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, The A-Team (2010), The A-Team (TV), The A-Team - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Daemons, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:01:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898558</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereToWrite/pseuds/HereToWrite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Change is inevitable, it happens whether you want it to or not, but the scariest changes are the ones that stick. </p><p>Or, Eight-year-old HM Murdock comes from a family of dogs, fourteen-year-old Templeton Peck never lets his daemon stay in the same form for more than a few hours, eleven-year-old John Smith doesn't like bullies, fourteen-year-old Bosco Baracus is angry all the time, and all this helps shape who they are.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Captain of My Soul [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Murdock</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! I've decided to revisit the good ol' daemons! I've had these stories floating around for a while and decided that I might as well go ahead and post them!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eight-year-old HM Murdock comes from a family of dogs. His Grandpa trots around with a border collie,  Grandma hums to an old English sheepdog’s howling, and his Ma used to read while she pet a beautiful Labrador Retriever, with fur like white snow and soft brown eyes.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eight-year-old HM Murdock comes from a family of dogs. His Grandpa trots around with a border collie,  Grandma hums to an old English sheepdog’s howling, and his Ma used to read while she pet a beautiful Labrador Retriever, with fur like white snow and soft brown eyes. </p><p>(His Pa was rumored to have an Akita, stubborn and independent, but he’s talked about so little and left so long ago that sometimes when he comes back in Murdock’s dreams he comes back as something else entirely) </p><p>Because of this, it would make sense for Murdock’s own Cielia to settle as a dog.</p><p>“Perhaps a nice Australian Shepherd to help Pa and Annamae out in the fields,” his grandma suggests, as she lays a slice of cake down in front of him. </p><p>He smiles at her and ignores Cielia as she twitches at his feet, reptilian eyes no doubt staring at him knowingly. Then for a lack of anything better to do he shoves a piece of chocolate cake into his mouth.</p><p>Grandma chuckles and daps a bit of frosting onto his nose, “Then again, maybe a Chocolate Lab would suit you better.” </p><p>He nods like he agrees and watches as she turns back to take something out of the oven. </p><p>(What they don’t know is Murdock had already decided when he was five that Cielia wouldn’t be a dog. Decided it the moment that his Ma’s hand went slack in his grip and beautiful-sickly-Diego blew into Dust beneath Cielia’s paws. Sometimes, Murdock thinks, when Cielia is anything with padded feet he can still see it. Golden and disgusting and woven between her toes.)</p><p>—</p><p>When he turns nine Grandpa starts taking him out with him to herd the sheep. </p><p>“It’ll be easier if you turn into a dog,” Annamae barks, as Cielia stumbles along as a goat. “I think we could use another border collie in the house. Heaven knows that it would make my job easier.” </p><p>“Kids aren’t supposed to make life easy,” Cielia bleats. </p><p>Grandpa laughs and turns to Murdock, “You really wanna try and herd sheep with a goat then?” </p><p>Murdock smiles and nods, and Grandpa calls the two of them silly, as they fumble their way across the farm and into a new pasture. When they get home Grandpa goes to talk to Grandma about how he thinks Cielia may settle as a goat instead of a dog and Grandma hushes him and says that dogs run in the family. The older couple laugh and joke as Murdock and Cielia sneak away. </p><p>Despite all the theories and the suggestions, Cielia is very rarely anything with four legs. If it does have four legs it’s never something with paws. Nothing with paws he reminds her that night as she curls against his stomach as a garden snake. Nothing with paws. </p><p>(He reasons that if she never changes into something with paws, she can’t settle as something with them and then maybe the Dust will go away.) </p><p>—</p><p>He’s ten when they decide that there’s something wrong with that. He’s surrounded by canines and other pawed farm animals and Cielia should naturally change to what’s around her, but she doesn’t. When they ask him why he says that they don’t want to. They frown at that and tell him that he isn’t handling his Ma’s death like he should be. They say that they should’ve noticed earlier and when he says he’s fine they don’t believe him and make him talk about it. </p><p>They take him to a room where a nice woman smiles at him and asks him questions and listens to his answers. </p><p>So he tells her about how it hurt and how it makes him sad. He tells her that he misses his mom and how he wishes she were here and she smiles and comforts and nods like she somehow understands. </p><p>(All while the Golden Retriever at her feet nods and talks in a deep voice and tries to offer advice, but all Murdock can think about is how he can never seem to get away from all these dogs and the Dust between their toes.)</p><p>Together the duo carefully coax him and Cielia away from their fears and applaud when Cielia changes into a skinny Xolo dog--black and hairless and as far away from Diego’s soft white fur as possible. </p><p>(She has to stay that way for the rest of the session and it makes Murdock’s skin itch in a way he can’t describe.) </p><p>They talk some more and he tells them that he’s okay now. He thinks he might be, at least a little bit, the part of him that used to hurt hurts less now and that must mean something. They nod, and he leaves, and he tells them thank you. </p><p>(He doesn’t tell them about the Dust, or how he still can sometimes remember how it had tasted on his tongue. He doesn’t tell them that Cielia became a toad the moment they were out of sight)  </p><p>—</p><p>When Murdock is fifteen he discovers birds and planes and flying. Grandpa takes him up in an old, borrowed, crop duster, and it feels like freedom. It feels like the warm hugs of his mother and the steady howling lullabies of Diego. It feels like home. Only it isn’t enough to just be a passenger, he wants to know what it feels like, but Grandpa won’t let him fly, keeps saying he isn’t old enough, and so Murdock turns to the next best thing and Celia soars. </p><p>She turns into hawks and falcons and small sparrows and flies farther and farther away from him, until his stomach flips and his brain aches. But he doesn’t mind, because she’s flying. He can feel her exhilaration over their bond and he knows that someday that’ll be up there joining her. </p><p>He watches as she flies a bit too far to the left and pins and needles shoot down his skin and cause him to stumble in her direction. But the pain is lost in the joy of this newfound freedom, of this new journey, and he laughs and catches Cielia as she soars back into his hands. </p><p>She twitters and screeches in his hands, as he inspects her wings and holds her close, then when they’ve grown tired of being grounded he throws her back into the air and watches as she gets smaller and smaller against the noonday sun. It’s breathtaking.</p><p>(Later there will be people, monsters in disguise, who will take this away from them. Will take this freedom and joy and willingness to soar and twist it into something ugly. Later there will be people who will separate their bond and cause them to be unable to drift apart all at once. They’ll hate it and think themselves weak over it, but that’s the future and this is now.) </p><p>—-</p><p>Murdock is seventeen and they talk about him behind his back. He hears them whisper about Cielia as she flits between a dove and a robin. It’s unnatural, they say, for a boy as old as him to still have an unsettled daemon, but they just don’t understand. There're so many birds to choose from, so many species that they had spent hours researching together, and how could they simply settle on one? </p><p>Grandpa frets and Grandma says they’ll figure it out when they're good and ready and the rest of the town gossips. All the while he watches with binoculars as Cielia flips through the air as an eagle and changes into a mockingjay mid loop. She’s beautiful.</p><p>(“Do you think there’s something wrong with us?” He’ll ask Cielia later, when they’re alone and she’ll scoff at the very thought of it and put him at ease as they continue to look for new ways to fly.) </p><p>—</p><p>He turns eighteen and joins the Air Force. Only, there’s a war on, and Grandma worries and fusses and Grandpa asks questions like who will watch the farm, but Murdock doesn’t care. His common sense has been lost in the euphoria of being able to fly, of being able to join Cielia in the air and soar.  </p><p>(They don’t have the money for him to get a pilot’s license and the old crop duster no longer appeases the growing need in his soul. This is the best option, he tells himself, the only option.)</p><p>They send him off with tears and he beams and waves at them as they drive away.</p><p>(He’ll cry later, when he’s alone in his bunk and what he’s done has finally settled in, but for now, all he sees are the planes and he thinks that he’s in love)</p><p>—-</p><p>He’s nineteen when he goes up in a plane by himself for the first time and it’s everything he’s ever dreamed of. There’s nothing but him and the sky and every distraction that has ever tormented him fades away into the distance. </p><p>The cockpit is small and Cielia is a hummingbird flitting too and fro and backwards and forwards in the small space and she laughs in his ear, her joy radiating off her and into his heart. </p><p>He whoops, and yells, and howls and at last feels like he’s complete.</p><p>Then there’s a burst of gold out of the corner of his eye and Murdock panics. The plane dips and the joy fades as he frantically tries to catch sight of Celia. That had been Dust, and Dust wasn’t good. Was never good. </p><p>(Dust was the yellow specs across pale, dead, skin, it was the golden strands stuck in between puppy paws.)  </p><p>The plane is still dipping and someone in the control tower asks if he’s alright. He yanks back and steadies the plane and breathes. In and out. In and out. Just like he’d been told to do when he was ten and they’d wanted Cielia to be a dog. He smiles and lies and says he’s fine. </p><p>(If they hear the tremor in his voice they don’t say anything and he doesn’t mention it.)</p><p>She can’t be gone, he tells himself, because he’s still here. He clings to that truth like a lifeline as he tries desperately to find her in the never-ending blue around him.</p><p>(She’d been a hummingbird last and those are oh so small and what if he can never find her again?) </p><p>“Murdock,” She chirps at last, or perhaps she’d been chirping for a while now and he’s just now noticed over the thundering of his heart, either way, it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. He looks towards the sound, just a few inches to his left, and spots her.</p><p>She’s hovering in front of his eyes, small, green, and beautiful. Her wings blur and the last few specs of Dust rain down from them, disappearing into the air. Dust, he remembers, can bring other things than death. </p><p>“Oh,” he breathes, “You’ve finally gotten stuck.”</p><p>She doesn’t say anything, but he can feel her uncertainty, her unease, so he smiles at her.</p><p>“You look lovely.” </p><p>She hums and chirps and preens at the compliment. Her unease bleeding away into pride. </p><p>“Do you like it?” He asks next because that seems important. </p><p>“I’ll miss being big,” she admits, perching on top of his head, then after a moment's hesitation asks. “Will you miss it?” </p><p>“Being big?” He asks, “I don’t think I was ever that to begin with. Tall maybe? But never big.”</p><p>“No,” she bristles and he can hear the scowl in her voice. “I meant will you miss me being big.” </p><p>He pretends to think for a bit, if only to get a rise out of her, before shrugging, “Eh, big planes can’t do as many tricks, I’m sure it’s the same for birds. And even if that ain’t true I think you’re perfect just the way you are. I certainly wouldn’t want you to change now that you’ve gone and decided what you want to be.” </p><p>And he means it, no one should be forced to be something they're not and if Cielia wants to be a hummingbird then that’s what she’ll be. </p><p>There’s a beat of silence as she nestles down into his hair and chirps out, “I like you just the way you are too.”</p><p>He smiles and watches the sky and feels like he’s finally whole. </p><p>(Later, there will be the Thunderbirds and the CIA and the army and Mexico, and everything that comes in between, and everything that comes after, but for now, there’s just him and Cielia and the sky and for now, that’s enough.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The classic whose daemon is whose and what animal are they that's always at the bottom of these kinds of stories.</p><p><b>Murdock:</b> Cielia, a hummingbird, this bird is unique because it can change flight paths easily (such as fly backwards) and hover in the air. It has an inability to walk and will usually fly no matter what the distance.<br/><b>Murdock’s Ma::</b> Diego, a Labrador Retriever--specifically a yellow lab, this dog is very easy going, trusting, and kind, which makes them great family dogs. They’re often quick learners and hard workers when trained properly.<br/><b>Grandpa Murdock::</b> Annamae, a Border Collie, known for their agility and brains Border Collies are often used as sheepdogs. They’re not satisfied without a job and tend to form tight bonds with the family they're a part of.<br/><b>Grandma Murdock::</b> Unnamed, an Old English Sheepdog, non-aggressive and good with kids this other sheepdog enjoys spending time with others and gets antsy when alone.<br/><b>Murdock’s Dad::</b> Unnamed, an Akita, a fiercely independent and stubborn animal the Akita tends to do better on its own. With proper training, they can become fiercely loyal, but without it they’re aggressive and a liability. They are not suited for farmwork and may attack livestock.<br/><b>Unnamed Therapist:</b> Unnamed, a Golden Retriever, known for being calm and family dogs Golden Retrievers are often used as therapy and emotional support animals.</p><p>And there's Murdock's chapter! I hope that y'all like it! Next up is Face, so stick around! <br/>(Also! My goal here was to not paint therapists in a negative light, but still stay true to Murdock's point of view. A good therapist is a good thing and if you're struggling please talk to someone)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Templeton Peck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m 90% sure Templeton Peck is a name that Face chose for himself once he was an adult, but for the sake of this story (and to try and avoid confusion) he’s gonna be Templeton Peck from the get go</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The facts are this: once your daemon settles you don’t get adopted. It’s a way of life, an infallible truth. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and no one wants a kid whose soul they can’t shape in some way. No one wants a kid who’s already decided who they are.</p><p>This is why fourteen year old Templeton Peck never lets his daemon stay in the same form for more than a few hours. Sangi is a constant blur of change, flitting between forms as easily as Templeton changes clothes. She’s every from an owl, to a dog, to a cat, to one memorable occasion as a large black bear, but she never settles. Never decides just who she is, who they are. To settle would be unthinkable. To settle would doom them both.</p><p>So, when couples come to look and coo at the new children, Templeton makes sure to sit up straight and smile as Sangi changes at his side. She’s a field mouse, a canary, a labrador. She’s cute, small, likeable, but the results are always the same; the handsome couple walk away with someone else. Someone younger. Someone less damaged. And he’s left alone with only his soul for company.</p><p>It repeats: this never ending cycle of hope and disappointment, of comfort and tears.</p><p>He’s become as constant as the stone saints that line the halls, staying trapped as others leave.</p><p>So, Templeton is more than used to watching couples walk in and out of the orphanage. He knows what they look like, what they feel like. He knows that this new man isn’t one of them.</p><p>He waltzes into the orphanage with a suit worth more than Templeton’s whole closet. He smells like money and feels like fear, and Templeton glares at him as he makes his way closer. His snake daemon is black like the man’s eyes and she curls around and around his neck, never speaking as her tongue flicks in and out of her mouth. She feels like poison, her bright eyes glinting dangerously in the low light of the chapel as if to make clear that only the taboo of touch is keeping you safe from her. Sangi growls at her anyway, her sharp Tasmanian Devil teeth glinting in the light.</p><p>Sister Dennis tuts at the behavior and tells them both to run along, explaining that she has some business to attend to. She seems perfectly at ease, shoulders straight and face neutral, but the Saint Bernard at her heels has his ears back and what sounds like the start of a growl in his throat. Temple stares. He’s never seen Michael so upset before, except maybe during that time he’d accidentally knocked over their statue of Saint Nicolas when he’d been racing Sangi down the halls. </p><p>He wants to protest, but there’s a nudge in his mind and an idea left there by Sangi, a much better idea. So he nods, smiles, and walks away. Bumping carefully (purposefully and expertly) into the dark suit man on his way out. Nimble figures pulling the pocket watch out of his pocket with far too practiced an ease for it to be the first time. He hands it to Sangi who shifts carefully into a raven and flies up into the rafters, nestling into the shadows. There’s a tug in his gut as she goes just a bit too far, but he ignores it in favor of learning what’s going on. </p><p>He leaves, but only as far as around the corner. He stops there and watches as Sangi, now a small bat, acts as his ears. She’ll tell him later what exactly is being said. She’ll recite with perfect memory all the boring things that grown-ups talk about when they think no one is listening, but all he cares about currently is what he’s seeing now. What he cares about is the way that this stranger makes Sister Dennis cry as he advances on her with words like “insufficient funds,” “a hundred short,” and “shut down,” all while his horrid black snake hisses at Micheal.</p><p>Then it’s over and the man leaves Sister Dennis sobbing amongst the pews and scriptures. He leaves and so does Templeton, storming off as only teenagers can, opening and closing his bedroom door with a slam. He ignores the startled looks of the other children inside and makes his way to his bed, Sangi stalking in beside him, her small weasel ears pulled back across her head. </p><p>He collapses onto his bed seething—it’s the bottom bunk and closest to the window. It’s easy for escaping when he wants to and good for hiding when he doesn’t—and pulls out his stolen object. </p><p>The pocket watch is shiny and golden and most importantly expensive looking. He flips it around in his hands and knows that Sister Dennis would disapprove, that Michael would growl even more than he had when they’d caused Saint Nicolas to lose his head in the hallway. He doesn’t care. </p><p>(Does care, but Sister Dennis had been crying and Michael’s tail had been tucked between his legs and surely he’d be forgiven just this once for breaking the eighth of the Ten Commandments.)</p><p>“What are we going to do with it?” Sangi whispers from where she’s nestled across his neck as a grey squirrel. “We can’t keep it.”</p><p>“Of course not, that would be dumb,” he tells her impatiently. “We’re not gonna keep it, we’re going to sell it.” </p><p>“How?” She huffs.</p><p>Templeton hesitates. They know an older kid, two bedrooms down the hall, with a raccoon for a daemon who could get them in contact with some people, but then he’d have to let someone else know what he’d done. Then he’d have to let someone else have a bit of the money he made. He remembers the last time he’d had to cut George in on a deal and shudders.</p><p>Sangi gives him a worried look, jumping off his shoulder and onto his lap. He doesn’t say anything, just bits his lip, stashes the watch under his pillow and lays down. The sun’s sinking beneath the horizon now and soon Sister Dennis and Micheal will walk in to make sure they’re all in bed. In the morning he’ll decide what to do. </p><p>“It’ll be okay,” he whispers as Sangi melts into a German Shepherd and forces her way under his arm, tail thumping against the sheets. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”</p><p>“Just don’t ask George two doors down. That raccoon of his gives me the creeps.” She licks his nose. “I think it might be the tiny little hands.” </p><p>He laughs and sinks his hand into her fur. </p><p>They’re asleep before Sister Dennis and Micheal appear.</p><p>—</p><p>He wakes with the sun, groaning slightly as Sangi stretches. Shaking off her German Shepherd form and falling gracefully into a tabby cat. </p><p>“Where to?” She whispers anxiously and he can see all his worries reflected in her flickering tail. </p><p>“Not George,” he reassures her. “We’ll just have to find another way to sell it. Come on.” </p><p>They sneak out expertly. </p><p>(They’ve done this before and walking past the statues of the saints with their judging stone eyes almost gets easier every time.)</p><p>“I’m thinking,” Templeton begins once they’re out in the streets and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears. “We could try and take it to a pawn shop. I think that’ll be safer than doing whatever George does.” </p><p>He isn’t a hundred percent sure what George does exactly, but when the seventeen year old leaves he always comes back a bit unsteady on his feet with less money than he promised and a haunted look in his eyes. Templeton doesn’t want that. </p><p>Sangi hums in agreement, “But what’ll you tell the owner? Here’s a watch I acquired that’s nicer than the clothes on my back, please don’t ask any questions.” </p><p>“Shut up,” he tells her, face heating up. “Of course not, I’ll just lie about it.” </p><p>Sangi snorts, tail swishing in amusement, “You’re a terrible liar.” </p><p>“Am not,” he whines back, “you just know me too well.” </p><p>She chortles, a weird purring sound in the back of her throat, “I’m only teasing.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>She smiles at him, changes into a blue bird and flies up to perch on his head, “So where to?”</p><p>“There’s a pawn shop down the street. I remember passing it the other day when we snuck out to go swimming.” </p><p>He can’t see her, but he can imagine her nods, “Well carry on then. I’m tired of walking.” </p><p>He rolls his eyes, but continues walking forward all the same. </p><p>They reach the pawn shop—Sue’s Spot—without incident and push open the door with a clinking of the bell. </p><p>The owner is an old, round, man, who peers at him over coke bottle glasses. At his feet an old basset hound looks up only briefly, before laying her head back down on the floor. </p><p>“How can I help you?” The man sighs.</p><p>“Are you Sue?” Templeton asks, eyes narrowing. He didn’t think boys could be named Sue.</p><p>“Sue’s the lazy lady on the floor,” the man chortles, shoving the basset hound with his foot. </p><p>“Mm not lazy, I’m old,” she mutters, turns over and lays back down. </p><p>“The name’s Pete, how can I help you son?” </p><p>“I want to sell this,” he takes out the watch and lays it on the counter. “How much can I get?” </p><p>The shop owner frowns picking up the watch and eying Templeton suspiciously as he turns it over in his hand. The look makes Templeton feel suddenly very nervous and very small. Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea.</p><p>“This is a mighty nice piece you got here. Where’d you get it? I can’t see a young man like you—“</p><p>“It was my dad’s!” He blurts out and his mouth starts running before his brain can catch up. “He died when I was real young and my sister’s sick and Mom can’t make enough money and she told me not to, but I decided to come here and sell it anyway. Because we need the money and it’ll help us keep our home and...and...and…” He can’t breathe and he feels tears pounding against the back of his eyes and he blinks to try and keep them at bay.</p><p>He feels the strum of Sangi’s anxiety and hears her chirp nervously. He was an idiot. This wasn’t going to work. They’re going to catch him and send him to prison. George said that he’d been to prison and he said that people <em> died there </em> and he can’t go to prison. Sister Dennis would be so disappointed and Michael would growl, and they would all lose the orphanage anyway and...and...and someone was touching his shoulder.</p><p>Templeton pulls away fast, stumbling away, as Pete’s voice finally reaches his ears.</p><p>“Woah, easy there son, easy there,” Pete is crouching down, away from him now, his hands held up diplomatically. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, but you seem a tad upset. Do you need anything?”</p><p>“I n-need to sell the watch. I need the money. It’s <em> important. </em>” </p><p>Pete frowns at him, eyes the basset hound who had gotten up in all the chaos and Templeton fidgets as the duo seem to have some sort of silent conversation. On his head Sangi changes into a beetle and flutters down to rest on his shoulder. </p><p>“They don’t believe us,” she hisses and Templeton wants to scold her, but he can’t move.</p><p>They’re going to call the police. He’s going to get arrested. He’s never going to get adopted.</p><p>At last Pete speaks and he sounds tired, “Listen son, I don’t think you should be parting with that there watch, but I also think that there’s a bit more to that there story then you’re letting on.”</p><p>Templeton winces, “So you won’t buy it.”</p><p>“No,” he hands Templeton back the watch. </p><p>He wilts. Now he’s stolen for nothing. The watch in his hand burns against his palm and he wants to throw it against the wall, to watch it break into pieces so that if he can’t keep his home he can at least have some sort of petty revenge against the man in the suit.</p><p>“Now, hey, none of those sad faces,” the older man says softly, “I said I wasn’t gonna buy the watch. I never said anything about not helping you out. How much do you need, son?”</p><p>He jolts, “What?”</p><p>“I said how much do you need? I don’t believe that you’re telling me the whole story about that there watch, but I know fear when I see it. I think you’re in a bit of trouble and I’d like to help you out.” </p><p>He splutters, “Wha-but-<em> why? </em>”</p><p>On his shoulder Sangi pinches him, “Don’t ask why, just take the money.” </p><p>“I’m old, and don’t need much these days, just Ol’ Sue here, but you two look like you could use a little help. Am I wrong?”</p><p>He shakes his head.</p><p>“Right, then how much do you need?” </p><p>Templeton licks his lips, fidgets with the watch, looks away, looks back, and says, “I need two hundred dollars.”</p><p>Pete’s eyes shoot up, Sue growls. “Hush,” he scolds and opens the register. “Listen son, I’m going to give you this two hundred here, but you gotta promise me something.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Promise me you’ll give that there watch back to your mother,” and Temp knows that he doesn’t actually mean his mother, that the man knows it’s stolen, and he feels his stomach flip. “I bet she’s missing it an awful lot and I wouldn’t want you to get into any more trouble.”</p><p>Pete holds out the two hundred and eyes him seriously, “Do you promise?”</p><p>“Um yeah,” he mutters and takes the money, pocketing it.</p><p>“Good. Now, how about a name before you head off?”</p><p>“George,” Temp mutters, because it’s the only name that comes to mind.</p><p>Sangi bristles, her wings fluttering in irritation. They aren’t George. Won’t be George.</p><p>The older man hums, “Right then George, you better hurry along. Good luck with everything.”</p><p>“And don’t get in any more trouble,” Sue grumbles on the floor. “If Pete keeps helping out lowlifes like you we ain’t gonna be able to eat no more.” </p><p>Pete scowls, “Don’t mind her, she’s just grumpy that she had to wake up. Now get, I’m sure someone out there is missing you.”</p><p>Templeton flees, but beneath the fear and the adrenaline, and the I-can’t-believe-we-did-it, the thought of I wish someone like that would adopt me goes fluttering by.</p><p>—</p><p>He sneaks back into the orphanage and drops the two hundred dollars into the donation box. When Sister Dennis finds it she’ll call it a miracle. She’ll praise the saints and praise God and only Templeton will know the truth. Michael always said that the truth was freeing, but this doesn’t feel like freedom. His inside knowledge twists his gut and he wonders if the truth is only freeing when more than one person knows it. </p><p>When the man in the black suit comes back that day and sees the money he scowls before swiping it all away. </p><p>He calls it luck, Sister Dennis reaffirms it as a miracle, and only Templeton knows it to be dishonesty. </p><p>When the man in the suit starts to leave Templeton remembers the pawn shop owner’s request and he swallows his fear and races forward. He skids to a stop in front of the man and holds up the watch to him.</p><p>The snake daemon hisses and the man’s eyes are dangerous and suspicious. </p><p>“You dropped this last time you were here,” Templeton beams up at him, making sure to keep his smile honest and his eyes innocent. </p><p>The man glares at him and snatches the watch back. The angry hissing of his snake being the only kind of thanks he gets. </p><p>But Sister Dennis? Sister Dennis beams down at him, and hugs him, and thanks him for being so honest, and it feels like torture. But he blushes and smiles back at her, leaning into the hug she offers.</p><p>(Over her shoulder, he watches as the man in the suit leaves and his stomach twists and knots. Beside him he can see Sangi change into a gecko to hide the drooping of her tail) </p><p>—</p><p>He walks back to his room that night, with Sangi trotting along beside him as a fox, and he thinks he’s gotten away with it. That he’s escaped undiscovered and unpunished. He’s wrong. Had been wrong to assume that he could hide his wrongs from the prying eyes of the statues and paintings that dot the halls. He hadn’t avoided punishment, he’d just delayed it. His punishment waits for him when he walks back into his, blessedly empty, room and shuts the door. He turns to speak to Sangi, only to watch in horror as she twitches and shakes Dust from her fur. It settles on the ground like a death sentence and she freezes. </p><p>“You’ve settled,” Templeton whispers softly, the words sounding pained in his throat. </p><p>He’s grateful that none of the other kids are around, because he thinks his eyes are wet and his lip is trembling. </p><p>“Yes,” Sangi says, her eyes staring back into his. Now permanently golden orange and beautiful. </p><p>Can you change back?” The question escapes from his mind and into the air before he can stop it.</p><p>Her ears twitch, her eyes look pained, “No.” Then hesitantly, “Do you want me to?”</p><p>“No,” he lies, but her brand new, beautiful, red tail droops and her ears lay back and he knows that she doesn’t believe him. He’s a fool to think that she would. </p><p>“We won’t get adopted now,” she says softly, still out of arm's reach, still distant.</p><p>“You don’t know that,” but his stomach clenches in fear. “We may.”</p><p>She snorts, lays down, her head on her paws as her ears fall down against her head, “No one wants a settled daemon.” </p><p>“I do.”</p><p>Her head shoots up and she stares at him.</p><p>He clears his throat, rubs the back of his neck just so he has something to do with his hands, “I’d want you.” He says again, clears his throat a second time, coughs. “That is if you’d want me back.”</p><p>Sangi twitches, her ears and tail shooting up. He thinks that if she were a dog it’d be wagging. Then she bolts towards him and he bends down to scoop her into his arms. She’s heavy and long, but he doesn’t drop her. Won’t ever drop her. </p><p>“I want you,” she says at last, whispering into his ear, nuzzling against his neck. “I always will want you.”</p><p>“Me too,” he tells her, digging his fingers into her fur. Soft and warm and comforting. “Me too.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The classic whose daemon is whose and what animal they are that's always at the bottom of these kinds of stories.</p><p><b>Templeton Peck:</b> Sangi, a red fox, foxes are commonly seen as cunning tricksters, however, they sometimes also fulfill the role of loyal guardians or friends.<br/><b>The Man in the Suit:</b> Unnamed, Kingsnake—specifically an eastern Kingsnake, these snakes constrict their prey until dead. The "king" in the name refers to its preying on other snake.<br/><b>Sister Dennis:</b> Michael, a Saint Bernard, originally bred by monks to help in alpine rescue efforts these dogs are a gentle giant as they’re calm, patient and sweet with adults, but especially with children.<br/><b>George:</b> Unnamed, a raccoon, smart, cunning, and sly these animals are known for being adaptable and good problem solvers. However, when threatened they become fierce and dangerous.<br/><b>Pete:</b> Sue, a basset hound, while generally a friendly and playful dog they are also very stubborn and extremely vocal. They were originally bred to be hunting dogs.</p><p>Also, I put Pete and, more specifically, Sue in the story to make a joke about A Boy Named Sue and then realized it didn’t quite fit in the timeline! I was so sad, but have Pete and Sue anyway.</p>
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